Specula
by falln-angl
Summary: Legolas finds hope. [Missing scene from LotR:TTT]


**Title: **Specula  
**Rating: **PG  
**Summary: **Legolas finds hope. [Missing scene from _LotR:TTT_]  
**Type of fic: **Vignette  
**Disclaimer: **All recognisable entities, places, things, whatever, belong to whoever has rights to them. Tolkien, et al.  
**Distribution: **Random Thoughts and Tarnished Silver. All else, please just ask.  
**Author's notes: **Seeing as I'm not as immersed in the Tolkien universe (especially the books) as so many other wonderful authors, the characterisations might be a little off. Sorry! This was written after having viewed the movie for only the second time. Also, slight AU because I have a feeling the scene with Legolas and Aragorn did not happen as such. I can't remember it exactly.

*

**Specula**

He strode from the armoury, hand clenching his bow in anger. It was this anger that he held onto, for without it he would have gone mad with despair. Three hundred against ten thousand. Men too old and boys too young against the mightiest of the Orcs. Did they not see the futileness of such a battle? Could they not hear death marching towards them, relentless and unstoppable?

They were all to die, and, it seemed, he with them.

Finally he stopped and he breathed out slowly. He looked around, finding himself within the hall of the citadel, empty for the women and children had hidden in the caves and the men were being herded towards their doom. But he was not alone. Soft footfalls whispered from behind a column, and in the shadows something flashed.

He knew not how, nor why, but he did not believe that an enemy hid from him. He turned towards the source. 'Come out, friend,' he called out.

'Had I been a spy for the enemy, Master Elf,' a voice replied, strong and unyielding, 'you would have fallen before words left your lips.'

He was surprised to see the White Lady of Rohan step out into the light. He bowed. 'My Lady, I beg thee pardon. I did not realise that it was you.'

He could feel her gaze on him. 'I have seen in your eyes that hope has left you,' she murmured.

He looked up, humbled at her words and her ability to see inside him. 'I fear that you are right.'

'Hope is frail and easily lost in times such as these, but it can always be found. You need only know where to seek it.'

She moved forward, and a gleam caught his eye. It was then he noticed her attire and the sword that she carried in her hand. She was dressed for battle.

The thought of such spirit being slain by an Orc, and of her body strewn among the carcasses of the dead, clenched at his heart. 'You must not-'

'I must do what I can,' she interrupted him, the steel in her eyes changing into molten flames. 'I can fight and I am able with the sword.'

'More able than many,' he agreed for he had seen, 'but you must be safe.'

'These are my people and I must defend them!'

Her passion and courage was fierce, and it sparked something within him. 'Your people would quail at the thought of their Lady in battle.' He could see that his words affected her, and she knew that he spoke the truth. '_You_ are their hope.'

Her gaze dropped. 'As they are mine.' Her words had been so softly whispered that he wondered if she had meant them to be heard. She looked at him once more. 'Very well. I will go down into the caves and I will hide.'

'Nay, Lady, you will live.'

'Then I have no need for this.' She held out the sword to him.

He reached for it and his hand brushed against hers. He looked into her eyes, suddenly afraid that her fire had been extinguished. Cool and grey, but there was a flicker. It was enough.

She took a step away from him, her hand falling to her side. 'Master Elf-'

'My name is Legolas, my Lady.'

A gentle smile formed upon her lips, and it was a wonder to behold. 'And mine is Éowyn. May the morning sun find you live and well, Legolas.'

'And you as well, Éowyn.'

She bowed, then turned from him and walked away. He watched until she had disappeared, then he, too, turned and walked out of the hall.

He noticed a boy just outside peering out from a helmet created not for one so young as him, and he stopped. 'Here, you will need this,' he said, offering him the sword.

The boy looked at him, startled. There was fear in his eyes. But also boldness and bravery. He knew what awaited him yet he stood tall. 'Thank you, Master Elf.'

'May it grant you the valour of the one who gave it to me.'

He returned to the armoury. 'Aragorn.' His friend turned to look at him. 'I am sorry for my words of before,' he said.

'It is alright, my friend.'

'You are right,' he continued. 'There is always hope. You need only know where to seek it.'

'And you have found it, Legolas?'

His mind filled with a smile of a maiden so fair, and with not a trace of coldness. 'I have found it.' And his heart echoed with a name, freely given.

_Éowyn._

**end.**


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